This is the format of this story. First-person and switching between the two protagonists.

Paul

'Assholes! Fucking assholes!' I growl telepathically at my brothers as I snap at their hind legs, chasing them through the woods. 'As soon as I catch one of you I'm going to sink my teeth into your neck and rip your goddamn throat out!'

'Enough!' Sam booms.

I am caught off guard by our Alpha and struggle to come to a halt. My paws dig into the forest floor to steady myself but I had been going too fast and end up tumbling into the brush.

Embry laughs at my misfortune, 'hah, idiot.'

'What's this about?' Sam demands. Jared, Leah, Brady, and Collin approach cautiously, sensing the tension.

I growl at Embry's remark and collect myself off of the forest floor. I recall for Sam by memory what had just taken place. Seeing that beautiful girl on the beach. How every fiber of my being unraveled and wrapped around her a million times over and now I belong to her and only her. Learning that she is Jacob's sister. How Seth, Embry, and Quil laughed like idiots and hurt her feelings. How they ruined the first interaction ever with my imprint.

Sam snarls at Seth, Quil, and Embry who whimper in response, hanging their heads at being reprimanded by our Alpha.

'It was just some fun,' Seth defends himself.

'Besides,' Quil chimes in, 'we weren't laughing at her. We were laughing at you, fool.'

I growl and think about snapping one of their legs in my jaws.

'Okay,' Sam responds to my violent fantasy, 'calm down, Paul.'

'Where's Jacob?' Leah asks, irritated.

'Off tonight,' Sam replies, 'he told me that his sister was coming. Billy wanted him home. Seth, Quil, Embry; you owe her an apology.'

'Oh, come on-' Embry starts.

'Hey! She doesn't know it yet but we're her family. And you were rude,' Sam explains. 'That was not a very nice welcoming. Everyone meet at the Black house in 30 minutes. We'll do this properly.''

'What?' I swallow. Butterflies fill my stomach. Now? What will I wear? I should have gotten my hair cut.

'Dude, no one cares,' Quil laughs at me for worrying about superficial things like clothing and hair cuts.

'I'll go get Kim,' Jared says, excited that tonight's patrol has been called off to welcome a new imprint. Now he gets to spend the evening with Kim and the pack. Maybe even go for a drive, afterwards. Maybe park down by the water. Maybe lay down in the backseat.

'And then what?" Collin teases Jared.

"Yeah! Details, bro," Brady snickers.

Sam laughs.

'Fuck,' Jared grumbles.

Leah rolls her eyes at the two youngest wolves, 'come on, man,' she cringes at the visual Jared accidentally shared of him fucking Kim in the back of his Jeep.

Jared huffs a steamy breath, shaking the fantasy away. He forgot that his thoughts weren't private. This just happens sometimes.

Oh, no. What if I let those types of thoughts slip too? What if, like Sam and Jared, I forget and think about Rachel the way they think about Emily and Kim. Fuck, and what if Jacob witnesses those thoughts?

'Oh, man,' Jared sways his head from side to side, 'not good, man,' he replies, embarrassed on my behalf.

I look at Sam with desperation in my eyes.

Sam chuckles, 'I can't help you there, bro.'

When I arrive home to change, I find that I have absolutely nothing to fucking wear. Everything I own is stupid. How come I didn't notice that all of my clothes are stupid? I try on a few different outfits before I settle on a white t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. They're new so I better keep my cool. It's no wonder that all of my clothes are stupid. With my short fuse, I phase too easily and tear out of everything I own.

I run a comb through my short hair, something I never do and then inhale a deep shaky breath, preparing myself to ask my father for the keys to the truck. All of my nerves cause my stomach to contract. Asking Dad for favors is never easy. It's been just me and him ever since Mom left. I don't blame her for leaving. I never had the picturesque happy childhood with the loving parents and the golden retriever. They yelled a lot. Mom drank. That's why Dad and I came here. I don't know if things would have been better with Mom.

I cautiously walk down the stairs.

"You're home?" my dad asks, startled when he sees me walk down the stairs.

"Uh. Can I uh… borrow the keys to the truck?" I swallow. I tower the man but he still terrifies me.

Dad walks around from the kitchen and stops, looking at me, "you got a date or something?" he asks, sternly, observing the presence of a shirt and shoes.

"I uh-" I start.

"Uh!" Dad mocks me. He hates how I say 'uh' or 'um'. He thinks it's useful to interrupt me harshly when I do it as a means to break the bad habit.

"No, sir," I reply, being mindful that I don't say the forbidden 'uh' or 'um' words… or stutter. He hates stuttering too.

"Then what?" Dad crosses his arms.

"Jacob Black's sister is home from school and I've been invited to a welcome home party," I explain. I concentrate on every word to keep my voice from shaking.

Dad hates a trembling voice as well; no judge will ever take you seriously with a trembling voice. Not that it matters. He's the lawyer. Not me. And it shouldn't matter to him either. He hasn't seen the inside of a courtroom in over 15 years. He's a probate lawyer; helping people manage their wills and end-of-life arrangements.

People don't have much to pass down around here, so he works part-time (if that). It's for the best. He's not very good at being a lawyer. Three years ago he worked for a local firm and screwed up something — I don't have the details but it was bad — and got fired. Ever since he's worked freelance out of our home. That means he has plenty of time to keep himself busy with my day-to-day and whereabouts. I've had to lie to him a fair deal since becoming a wolf. I'm also a terrible liar which somehow infuriates him even more. I guess it's a 'lawyer thing' to want your kids to be good liars?

Dad stares at me with his signature unreadable glare, "and you think I should let you take my truck?" he asks. It was supposed to be my truck. Dad bought it as a birthday gift when I turned 16 but since I have yet to earn it, it mostly sits in the drive next to his old BMW.

I'm not sure if this is a real question or an exercise for me to plead my case. If dad doesn't like my response, he'll often say 'that won't hold up in court, boy' and I'll either be forced to try again or give up. Most times I opt to give up. Presenting new arguments only leads to further mockery and humiliation. The further down the rabbit hole I go, the more likely I will stutter, tremble or use the forbidden 'um' words. In which case, game over. I've lost.

"What?" he continues before I can answer him, "can't one of your little punk-ass friends drive you?"

"Um-"

"Um!" Dad interrupts me. I flinch.

"I'd really like to take the truck… please," I swallow hard.

"You think you deserve to take the truck tonight?" asks sharply. "After barely scraping by this past year and that embarrassing SAT score?"

"Uh-"

"Uh!"

I swallow again, trying to remain composed, "I was hoping just this once… please?"

"Please what?" Dad clears his throat.

"Please, sir," I reply, looking down.

The greatest mystery to the pack is how I manage to not phase in the presence of my father. It's not a mystery to me. It's not because I have control. He does. He has all the control. He always has.

Dad expels a long sign followed by a deafening silence, "well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let you borrow the truck for one night," he replies. "After all, you've got a summer job now so you aren't completely useless, I suppose. You'll have the truck home by midnight?"

"Yes, sir," I smile.

"Okay. Don't disappoint me, boy," Dad walks over to the closet and retrieves the keys from his jacket, and hands them to me.

I find it incredibly difficult not to speed the entire way there. I keep replaying my first interaction with my imprint over and over in my head. I feel like a fool. I'm Paul. What's my last name, again? Ugh. Idiot.

When I arrive, I'm relieved to find that I am not the first one there. I park the truck near the road and observe who all has arrived and try to see if I can see her. I can't. I don't know where she is. I see the pack carrying trays and coolers towards the house. Leave it to Emily to throw together a party in under 30 minutes.

Then I spot Sam, standing with Billy and Jacob Black on the front porch. The two Black men look serious, arms crossed, engaged in the conversation. I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat to no avail. Jacob glances over at me with an intense glare. Well… I guess they know.

I kill the engine. Before I can open the door, Jared and Kim appear on the other side of my window.

"Hi!" Kim grins up at me, "are you nervous?" she asks. She is a bouncing ball of energy. I used to find her annoying and wonder how Jared could be so infatuated with a person who so closely resembles a humanoid version of a chipmunk. But I get it now. He doesn't love her in spite of her spunky, high-energy ways. Rather, he loves her and all of her, in all of her ways.

I exhale and look towards the house, "yeah…" I admit and then pound my fists on the steering wheel. "Fuck," I growl.

"Easy, bro," Jared, pulls Kim behind him. The whole pack is aware that I'm a short fuse. "What are you worried about?"

"You're joking, right?" I attempt once more to swallow the lump in my throat. Once more, it doesn't work. "Look at me," I glance down at my shaking fists, "I'm going to scare her off."

"Oh, you'll be fine," Kim replies, coming back out from behind Jared. "Oh, hey! What about Stella?"

"What about Stella? She's not interested anyways," I reply.

Stella and I work together. I am employed with her this summer as a lifeguard at First Beach by the Oceanside Resort. This is the first year that the resort is employing lifeguards. When I found out that those were Stella's summer plans, I made sure to get a job doing the same thing. I pursued her. She's made it very clear she is not interested. So it doesn't matter.

It'll be good to have a job this summer to get out of the house without being interrogated by Dad. And I'll make some money. Maybe I can save up enough to buy a shitty old car so I don't have to ask Dad ever again for the truck. It sucks, though. It's a nice truck and I was really excited about driving it. Dad presented it as a birthday gift nearly a whole year ago. It's not really mine, though. It's just another bread crumb Dad occasionally throws at me after an appropriate amount of begging on my part, berating on his part and only if he's feeling generous.

"I don't buy it. Stella's just playing hard to get," Kim giggles, thinking that Stella is teasing me.

I don't care anymore. Stella who?

Jared smiles down at his bubbly imprint and kisses her head.

"Y'all gonna spend all night out here or what?" Emily asks, joining Kim and Jared outside of the truck. "Come on inside and say hello, Paul."

"I, uh. I need a minute," I swallow and look at the three gawking at me.

"Okay. Come on, kids," Emily says, pulling the two away from my truck.

I nod to Emily as she ushers my brother and his mate away from my truck. I roll up the window and lean my head back against the seat, inhaling deeply. You're in control. I remind myself. Even though I'm not. I'm not in control. Not of this. I am deeply in love with her... in this insane, all-consuming way and I am absolutely, 100% not in control of it. Or anything. I can't keep from phasing if I let my temper get the better of me. I can't control my temper. I am not in control. Not of anything.

My heart begins to race. Oh no. Come on. Not now. I inhale. My breath is shaking. I close my eyes and try to focus on something. On anything. On… on… on her.

I envision her. Her wavy black hair. The way it floated in the breeze. Her voice. The way my name sounded when it came from her lips. When she said Paul Lahote… Paul Lahote. Paul Lahote. I smile to myself, replaying over and over again the way she said my name. My heart slows. I think of her lips and how full they were; how dark they were in contrast to her bronze skin. How they were a little bit chapped. How I would have let her borrow my chapstick... or keep it. How anything that I have is her's if she wants it; my chapstick, my hoodies, my time, every nickel, every dime… And my heart slows. I am in control. I'm in control. There… I can't believe it. I did it… I stopped myself. I could have phased out of this whole fucking truck and I kept it together… For her.

I open my eyes and look around the Black's front yard. I am alone. Everyone else is inside. I pull on the lever to the truck's door and it pops open.

Here goes everything…